


Anything

by Lilian



Series: Things [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e02 The Sign of Three, Fix-It, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:57:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1194315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilian/pseuds/Lilian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'"I have a puzzle for you, Sherlock." Mary said.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still searching a beta for this, so- all mistakes are mine. Hope it's not too terrible, though. 
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

When Mary said that they need to find Sherlock immediately, right after the cheerful and maybe still a bit drunk shouting of their friends echoed away from the cab they were sitting, John just nodded, suddenly alarmed.

 

„Is everything all right?” He asked his new wife, frowning a bit when she told the cabbie to go to his old flat.

 

Mary smiled at him reassuringly. He smiled back and thought: _God, we’re married._

And what a fantastic wedding this was. Even though John wasn’t the best dancer in the world, they spent quite a bit time on the dancefloor – and then talked to a couple of people and ate some cake and everything was perfect. Sherlock dissapeared somewhere between the dancing and the chatting, but it’s not like John expected him to be by his side the whole evening. Speaking of evening, it was now past three am and they (well, Mary and him) had a plane to catch at 10:45 at Heathrow. They decided to sleep on the journey, or maybe at the hotel on the first day of their honeymoon – it didn’t seem such a good idea earlier, but now John was still feeling the adrenalin pump through his veins, and even if the feeling ebbed a bit, it was enough just to exchange a look with Mary (’omg, we’re married!’ – simply with grimaces, as if they were teenagers, god) for it to shoot back to the stars like a tiny kite in a tornado. Best day of his life, indeed. He was certain they wouldn’t sleep for hours – not for just the obvious reason that a newly wed couple had on their wedding night, but they still had to pack for the ’Sex Holiday’, as Sherlock called it. He chuckled, then quickly sobered. Right, Sherlock.

 

„Why are we going to see Sherlock?” He turned to Mary, who was texting, now dressed in something which must have been much more comfortable than her wedding dress. It was probably one of her favourite ’at home’ clothes, since John saw them frequently, at least once a week – the blue sweather with the hoodie and front pocket plus the grey trousers.

 

„You’ll see,” Mary replied with a teasing grin – which resulted in John grabbing and snogging her for a good four minutes, for not the first time in the last day.

 

After that, Mary pulled back, softly giggling and said: „Not now, John, I’m texting Mycroft.”

 

The man’s mouth actually opened in shock. He never expected to hear _this_ sentence.

„You what?!”

 

Mary laughed aloud this time. „You’ll see,” she repeated. „It’s all part of the surprise.”

 

„How do you even have Mycroft’s number?” John asked with complete disbelief – but her wife didn’t answer, just blinked at him for a moment – with the exact look that Sherlock always used on him when someting was ’so utterly obvious’, but he missed it. John wasn’t particulary found of that look, and especially not after he started to get it from Mary too. 

„We’re here.” The cabbie said minutes after, as she parked behind a black car, in front of 221B.

„You go ahead and carry my dress.” Mary suggested as they paid and got out. „Here’s your key.”

John stepped inside of 221B, just as he did so many times – but something was different. The air felt eerie, and suddenly John had dark thoughts _. Is Sherlock…?_ He ran up the stairs.

 

The first thing he noticed was Sherlock’s violin, which lay in Sherlock’s chair opposite with the Consulting Detective himself, who was sitting in John’s chair- well, it had been John’s chair not long ago, but now he was not that certain anymore.

 

„What are you doing here?” Sounded the deep baritone voice slowly, as Sherlock’s gaze left his violin, and arrived on John. And then on Mary, who stepped into the room behind him in that moment.

 

„I have a puzzle for you, Sherlock.” Mary said.

 

Two pair of eyes steadied on her. She was watching Sherlock – John followed her example and saw the other man’s expression: his eyebrows up, a tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth. The newly married couple waited in silence. _Will he take it?_ – John wondered, but as soon this thought arrived it was followed by another, which suspiciously sounded just like Sherlock: _of course he will, just look at the gleaming in his eyes!_

 

Then Sherlock sighed dramatically. „Is it terribly domestic?”

 

„Yes.” Mary laughed. „And no.” She added a bit more seriously. „It’s a game I constructed for you. If you can crack it, you’ll get a prize. It’s quite a challenge, mind you. But I think it’s worth the struggle or at least an attempt. Are you intrested?”

 

„It has to do with that bag you are carrying,” Sherlock deduced, and he stood up, switching into his Great Hat Detective mode.

 

John looked at the said bag in Mary’s left hand. Where did she get it? It wasn’t with them in the cab, he would’ve remembered that. 

 

„Don’t run ahead, Sherlock. Are you playing, or not?” Mary challenged.

 

They measured each other for a minute, the woman still in his marital bliss, her cheeks red, and the man with the pale skin, all business and renewed energy.

 

„All right.” Sherlock shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but he couldn’t fool anyone in the room.

 

*

 

„There are a lot of rules, and I’m only going to say everything once, so listen to me carefully,”  Mary gave a warning, as she circled around the sofa, putting away her wedding dress. „Don’t interrupt until I’m done, OK?” She waited until she got a nod from him. „Your puzzle is a sentence which has eight words in it: I will shortly give this to you in a paper. It’s a message for you, from me. You have 33 minutes to figure it out, which starts when I finished briefing you in. You can have two helpers, who are real people, but you have to guess their identity right. You can get three guesses, and if you say their name, you can rely on their assistance from that moment on. After the tenth minute, you may enquire three yes-no questions, and I will answer two of them of my choosing. I’m also gonna put three objects on the mantelpiece: they are all clues _and presents_ for you, and you can choose two of them to exemine more thoroughly than just seeing them from this distance. Well, I think that’s mainly it – if you can’t get the answer by minute 30 and you’re feeling desperate, you can ask for more clues, but you have to give something in return for them,” Mary winked at the detective. „Do you need anything before we start?”

 

Sherlock shook his head, already muttering to himself.

 

„John, will you set up a timer, please?" Mary asked, then she went to the fire and pulled out three brown paper bags from his bag. After arranging them, she also pulled out a simple A5 sized white paper and presented it to the taller man. John, who put his mobile to the coffetable (timer already running), automatically started to step to his best friend’s side, but Mary caught him by the arm. „Sit down and don’t peek. This is only Sherlock’s puzzle now – just for a while, all right?”

John, now just as intrigued, followed her order – and he did what always: watched Sherlock think.

 

Sherlock studied the paper with that piercing stare – what was on it? - John wondered. According to Mary, an 8-word sentence, but if that was the thing Sherlock had to figure out, it’s not too likely that the paper consisted anything more than clues. A message as an eight word sentence – it could be almost everything, like (John counted): ’We had a great wedding, thanks to you.’ Or ’Despite the murder-attempt, we had much fun.’ (Did murder-attempt counted as one or two words? Anyway, thankfully it was just an attempt.) Or it could be something about the baby. John still felt dizzy every time the thought of the pregnancy came into his mind. God, they’re gonna be parents!

 

Sherlock made a frustrated noise, which brought him back to reality. Mary was sitting on the sofa, which they brought closer to the two chairs and the fire when they were still planning the wedding a few weeks ago. Sherlock was staring at her with his best ’intimidating lead witnesses and old ladies’ look. Mary didn’t even blink, her smile didn’t falter.

„Yes, Sherlock?”

 

Sherlock looked like someone who swallowed something particulary sour. „Is Mycroft one of my… _helpers_?” He pronounced the last word with notable disdain.

 

„No.” Mary immediately replied. „And you have two guesses left.”  

 

Sherlock turned on his heels and murmured something, which sounded suspiciously like „thank god for small mercies”.

„He is in it, though.” The black-haired man turned back, keeping an eye on Mary’s reaction. Mary shrugged. Sometimes John was still surprised how easily she dealt with the Holmes brothers. _Maybe it’s some woman empathy thing._

„You know I can’t answer that. Yet.”

 

„You don’t have to, I know it for certain. That big-”

„Seven minutes tickled by, Sherlock.” John warned, who wasn’t really in the mood of thinking about Mycroft right now.

„Right. Is John one of my helpers?”

 

Mary beamed at them. „Yes, of course. Like always.” She kicked him lightly. „Go to him, John, you can help from now on.”

 

_Finally_. John eagerly joined Sherlock, and whispered to him. „You are probably right about your brother. Mary said she texted him a while ago, in the cab.”

 

„That would explain the bag,” Sherlock spoke on his regular voice, clearly not caring if Mary heard their exchange of words, so John figured he shouldn’t bother either. „She must have picked it up from one of his henchmens after you got out of the car. You came in first, carrying the dress,” He poninted to the hanger where it dangled next to their coats. „She had time.”

 

„What’s on the paper?” John asked.

 

Sherlock showed him, speaking fast. „As you can see, although the sentence is eight words long, Mary already gave us the first and the last one, leaving six of them unknown at this point. There are other clues as well: note the third and the seventh words: they are differently signaled than the rest – with three short lines instead of the longer ones, which are all the same size, by the way. The second, the fifth and the sixths are coloured, two red and the fifth green. The pictogram of the ’eye’ at the beginning is also blue. There is a number at the end, probably the only one in the sentence, and it’s not coloured. Firstly we can possibly deduce from this that the short-lined words and the red one’s are either identical or bear close to similar meaning, what else would be the point of constructing them this way? We cannot be sure, however, but it’s more likely than that they are accidental choices. Now the short-lines: probably an acronym, don’t you think? Three letters. Something wildly known and frequently abbreviated that way, like ETA or the NHS. Now the colours. Blue, red, green and red again. Four stripes: no known national flags with these colours. Which way are they significant? On the colour palette: cold, warm, cold and warm, it’s a pattern, but does this tells us anything? We cannot discard it’s meaningful yet, but it may be a dead-end. Now, in average life the colours are associated with emotions or metaphores of unanimated objects or nature. They can almost literally represent everything: blue: sky, ocean, sea. Green: grass, apples, envy, seven-week Malasian food. Too broad, too many. Concentrate!”

 

The words were flying out of Sherlock in an almost unbelievable speed.

„Let’s take a step back. It’s a message from Mary to me – it’s likely be something of a personal importance. What main thing do Mary and I have in common: John. But John doesn’t have blue eyes. John, who has blue eyes in our common acquaintances ?”

 

Well, it’s not exacly a surprise that Sherlock doesn’t know: he never bothered to remember Greg’s first name, let alone something so mundane as his eye colour. John quickly sorted trough their friends list. It didn’t take long, really.

„Ugh… us? Nobody else,” For the first time since Sherlock rapid deducing monologue, he looked at Mary on the sofa. „Except Mary.”

 

„So if the blue represents Mary, the word can be ’see’ or ’watch’ maybe ’observe’ or others. What…”

 

„Sherlock,” John interrupted feverishly. There was something which occured to him at the half of Sherlock’s long observation, but it only bloomed to life a moment before. „It is not an ’eye’! It’s _’I’_! They sometime signal it that way, in kids puzzle books.”

 

„Then the two at the end is not a number either!” Sherlock exclaimed loudly, shaking the paper in his hands. „It stands for ’too’.”

 

„Yes! But you were still right in some way,” John continued. „The _I_ does mean Mary. It’s blue, because that’s her favourite colour.”

 

Sherlock looked from John to Mary as if he never heard about favouring one colour above the others as a human practice, _and now he had_ he thought it was the stupidest thing on earth.

„But why the hell is _that_ substential?”

 

„Oi!” Mary scolded him, although her eyes were still soft with warmth as she looked at them. „13 minutes, Sherlock.”

 

„I got questions then, as you promised? Three of them, but you’ll only answer two.”

 

„That’s right.” Mary nodded eagerly. John also noticed that she was a bit nervous – why was that? She knew the answers already, didn’t she?

 

The detective paced the room in silence for a few seconds.

„One: Did you lie about anything since you arrived to the flat, and will you honestly answer these questions, can I trust you?”

„Two: How is my brother involved in this?”

 

„That’s not a yes or no question, Sherlock.”

 

„Let me rephrase it: Is my brother involved in any way which is his usual bossy and/or ’I am king of the world’ attitude? Wait, I can’t even imagine that the answer could be no in Mycroft’s case, let’s ignore this completely. Any ideas, John?”

 

John scrached the back of his head. „Ugh, a moment… Maybe we could ask if the message is a positive one. I mean like what emotions is it carrying? What is in the background of it?”

 

„And how, pray tell, are we going to get closer to the sentence with this?”

 

John’s face froze. He hated this voice. It was the one Sherlock usually used with Anderson and other ’imbeciles’.

 

„You could just say ’that’s not really useful, think about something else, please’ and not include the rude comments.” He bit out a little harder.

 

Sherlock looked at him slowly and he seemingly hestitated for the first time since the ’game was on’.

„It was not in my intention to… umm… frustrate you?”

 

„Ah, forget it.” That sounded as an apologie, coming from Sherlock. He looked at his phone. „The time is running, we need to hurry up.”

 

„We are almost at halftime, boys.” Marry announced. „Two more questions.”

 

„What about the coloured words? Or should we ask about the plain ones?” John suggested quickly.

„Wait, wait, stop, shut up!” Sherlock shouted, suddenly halting his erratic pace. „We missed something. Again: the sentence itself: message from Mary. We assume that Mary is in it, herself, as the beggining I. The receiver is me, the common ground is: John. I’m just putting it together. So there has to be mentions, or at least hints, guindences or traces of the presence of John and/or me in the sentence.”

 

John’s gaze found the paper. God, it seemed so simple, like secondary schoolers games, and they still coudn’t crack it. But… oh, wait.

„The three shorter ones!” He poked at them. „It’s the whole game: a bit like hangman, isn’t it? Particularly those two. Maybe they aren’t acronyms, hmm? It can be a simple three letter word, like him, his, or our, or you…”

 

Sherlock stared at the paper, and he didn’t react at all.

 

„Sherlock? Did you hear what I just said?” John touched the taller man’s arm.

 

„What? No. John, what’s _your_ favourite colour?”

 

John shook his head exasperated. „You mean you don’t know.”

 

„Well you never said, althought judging by your favourite jumpers I would say outmeal…”

 

Mary laughed and after John decided to not sulk about that, he easily joined in.

„It’s not.” He said, after they came down. Sherlock, still in his Serious Detective mode, only gave a come and go, absented smile. „Green is.”

 

„The fifth word,” Sherlock said triumphantly. „Coincidence?”

 

„And the third and seventh: you, our, his or him.” John repeated.

 

Sherlock considered this, darting a look at Mary again. „Could be. However, I don’t think we will be able to deduce more of the paper, even if we theorise some more, so maybe it’s time to jump back to the questions.”

 

There was some silence, which was then broken by John.

„We could ask if it – the sentence – is related to the wedding. It’s pretty much all we thought about in these last weeks, right? And if not, it would rule out a great many things.”

 

„This is the second one, Mary.” Sherlock agreed.

„What about the last one?” Asked the shorter man the other one.

 

Sherlock turned to her.

„Are we right about the words this far?”

 

„There are eight words and you said a lot of things about them, and sometimes those things contradicted each-other,” Mary interposed. „But I will accept this, just please clarify.”

 

„The first: I, meaning you. Second and sixth one basicaly the same or something close. Third and seventh: you/him/his or our. The fifth: John. Eighth: too.”

„Ok, let’s see.” Mary waved at them to come closer. They sat down on their chairs, both of them leaning towards the women. „For once, I am answering these questions honestly. I don’t think I lied before, but even if I did, it isn’t important.” She drew in a big breath, and she sounded more serious than since they begin the game. „And I swear, Sherlock Holmes, that you can place just as much trust in me, as you can in John Watson.”

 

There was a momentarily pause, then she continued more softly. „As for the other, the things you said about the words, those are right. And… the sentence _is_ related to the wedding.”

 

Both men stared at him confused. „You said you only will answer two.” John reminded her.

 

Mary smiled, as if she hadn’t ’made a mistake’. „Well, we already are past 21 minutes, so I figured that you could use some additional help.”

As John leaned closer for a quick reward-kiss, Sherlock spoke slowly. „Are you my second helper?”

Mary pulled back and hussed his husband back to his original position. Then she smiled at Sherlock encouragingly. „I am.”

 

Sherlock remained silent, after he apprehended this. John secretly cheered for Mary’s choice – not just because it was logically practical in their situation, but because Sherlock needed to know and accept the knowledge that there were now two people who cared for him as intensely as John did alone, before the fall. They were a triangle, a unite, the three of them, Mary herself said so a couple days ago and John loved her even more for this: not just acknowledging and accepting Sherlock’s presence in his life, but welcoming and appreciating it as much as he did.

 

„Want to pick your presents now?” Mary asked Sherlock a minute later, almost in a whispering tone.

 

John noticed that the atmosphere of the room changed: they were closer to each other and the fire in this sitting position than before, but that didn’t really explained it wholly. It was as they were waiting or ancipitating something, John wasn’t sure what.

 

„How much can I observe them before choosing? Or will I get all of them again, regardless of what you stated at the beginning?”

 

„No, Sherlock, you can only choose two at the moment, although you also can have the third one later, if you want to, and choose to have it. I would– I mean, I think _we_ would gladly give you all of them.” Mary coughed once. „You can look inside the paper bags, or move them, or do whatever else with them, but you can’t take out or open the items before you choose.”

 

Acknowledging this, Sherlock stood up and peeked inside the brown paper-bags. Sniffed at them. Lifted them one by one, lightly shook the left and the right one, then bought the middle closer to the lamp and studied it for a couple of seconds. After that, he stepped back to his fotel, and was silent for a few seconds.

 

„I don’t know,” he said then suddenly. At John questioning look, he elaborated.

 „The right bag contains a small black holder, exacly like your wedding ring’s case, it may be one of them, or just identical to them. There can be anything inside, well, anything that fits, I couldn’t tell what from the weight. Most likely it’s a small paper with the clue’s one third in it. The middle bag holds an envelope, with rich and thick paper, possibly English, but doesn’t show anything about the inside, which is of course the main attraction. There are no distinguishing marks on it, either. The third one is heavier than the rest, and smells more of Mary than the others. It’s most likely to be a music box or something familiar, because it gave a faint sound when I shook it.

 

Sherlock was still amazing. He should have gotten used to it, and he thought he did. Unbelievable. But Mary, Mary was much more surprising tonight. She had a music box, John knew this, it usually lay in her nightstand and it held a big sentimental value to her. Why is she giving it away to Sherlock, now? And what was that damn sentece, anyway? If she went through such lenghts for it, it had to be a big thing. But why choose to present something important in this childish, gaming way? John didn’t understand.

 

„Which ones would you choose?” Sherlock asked, and John looked up. The enquiry, however, wasn’t directed at him.

 

„I would choose all three,” Mary replied, and it wasn’t an answer, but it still felt like one. „But I know what’s in them, remember? I’m hoping I can get to have all three.”

 

Sherlock turned to him, the question in his eyes.

„I would choose those two.” John pointed at the middle and the left bag. The envelpe and the music box.

 

Sherlock stood up and picked up the middle bag. Then he slowly raised his arm again and lifted the right one up too.

„And I choose this one,” he murmured softly to himself, then he sat back on his chair again and pulled out the envelope with one swift move. John watched him opening it with his long fingers, and didn’t quite understand why his heartrate decided to elevate.

 

There was a single sheet. Sherlock and John both stared at it. Mary was holding her breath.

 

„It’s a plane ticket.” John said. _Thank_ _you for stating the obvious_ , _Watson._

 

„The day is today. On your plane. The seat is next to yours.” Sherlock shook his head as if he wanted to clear it. „You want me to go with you on the honeymoon?”

 

John never really thought about it. No, that’s a lie, he did. He wished they wouldn’t have to leave Sherlock behind, he was worried what he might do and what would they find when they returned. He _wanted_ to be able to bring Sherlock with them, but he never considered it as a real possiblity. Because it wasn’t apropriate, bringing your best friend along your ’Sex Holiday’, right? He talked about this with Mary, his conserns for Sherlock mostly, and wonderful Mary came up with this, and it was brilliant. The extraordinarily Sherlock, the fantastic Mary, and the he, John H. Watson, the lucky one. It’s just reasonable that they have to be together. Have to go together, so this way Sherlock can hold onto his vow about not letting them get hurt.

 

„Open the other one.” Mary answered quietly, and she seemed more wind up then before the ’I do’s, torn and worried and radiating love, and as Sherlock popped open the small case with lightly shaking hands, John suddenly knew, he knew it just as steadily as the knew the main things in his life, like that the sun comes up at the morning, that Mrs. Hudson’s oranges cookies are the best, that he will always forgive Harry if she comes to him soberly, and he knew this one too. Knew that they belonged together and that he will love them forever. Mary, Sherlock, and the baby. His family, which he married, _is marrying_ properly today.

 

„Yes,” burnst out of John softly, and then he met Mary’s eyes and repeated it, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

 

The ring before Sherlock was identical to the ones on their joined hands.

Mary let out a shallow breath, squeezed back John’s hand then let it go. She got off the sofa and kneeled in front of the completely freezed and rigid Sherlock. Just like when John asked him about being his best man, Sherlock appeared to be still like a statue. His gaze was on the ring, but he didn’t even blink.

 

„Are you all right, love?” Mary asked, hesitatingly hovering her hand above Sherlock’s, then she placed it on his gently.

At this moment, John’s mobile went off. He turned to the table and turned the timer off, noticing that now his hands were shaking too.

 

Thanks to either the noise, the words or the physical contact, unlike the other time, Sherlock came out of his dumbstuck haze with a gasp and with a shudder which shook his whole body, like someone who got eletrocuted.

He looked at Mary and then John with utter shock on his face. Whatever he has seen on them, it made him red as a tomato, and he adverted his gaze just as abruptly as he blinked at them.

 

„We are offering, Sherlock. It’s your choice, your decision. But we want it. We want you, if you’ll have us.” Mary said.

 

Sherlock didn’t reacted, but he breathed in and out harsly, not really hyperventallating, but not too far from it.

 

„You can have time to think about it, as much as you want. And we will have to talk a lot about it, of course, if you agree to it, that is, because a relationship is hard enough for two people, let alone three, but we have time to figure it out, and I think we ought to try it, because it could be wonderful and brilliant and unique, like we are. We want you in every part in our life, Sherlock, as a partner, a friend, a lover, a parent to our child, in every way you feel comfortable to give yourself to us.”

She licked her lips, and fearlessly continued. „But if you don’t, we can forget this and go on like it was before. It doesn’t have to change if you don’t want to, and I swear, that we will never, _ever_ leave you, even if you say no,” Mary’s words were honest, loving, soothing. „What do you think, love?”

 

Sherlock risked a glimpse up again, opened his mouth, but he didn’t produce any noise except a loud inhale. His gaze jumped from Mary to John, from John to Mary, back and forth, back and forth. Holy Christ, he was the Great Sherlock Holmes, the cleverest man in England, and he was scared shitless when presented with emotions - and John realised again how devastatinly, longingly and unlimitedly he loved him from the moment he met him.

He moved closer, kneeling next to Mary on the carpet. He offered his hand to Sherlock – reached out to his left, which wasn’t wrapped in Mary’s white fingers.

 

„John was just as clueless as you.” She continued to whisper to Sherlock, smartly giving him more time to collect himself. „I’m sorry to present it so weirdly and out of the blue, but I felt like you boys could deal with it better in this way, better than in a serious adultish ’let’s-sit-down-and-just-say-it’ talk.”

 

„How… how long were you planning this?” Sherlock asked finally. His voice was raspy.

 

„I have been thinking about it from the beginning, I think, in some ways. But it was two weeks ago when the idea became more serious. Seeing you two in the final days before the wedding- I decided it then. Mycroft helped to get the ring and the ticket.”

 

Sherlock silently digested this – or rather, he just tried not to freak out specularly, John suspected. Right. Then it was his time to be brave. And talk about feelings.

„I–” He cleared his throat. Sherlock noticeably got tenser. „I am…” He cleard it again. Sucked in a big breath. This was rapidly becoming fucking ridiculous, _just get on with it, soldier!_. „I agree with everything Mary said. I… me too. I want it.”

 

_God, that was hard_. Now Sherlock was breathing harsh again and he stood up feverishly. John looked at Mary desperately. How should he help? What should he say?

 

„When I first met you, Sherlock, at the restaurant, I knew a lot about you already,” Mary started speaking again in that calming manner she used with patience too, and _John_ instantly felt better. „I was a bit jealous and a lot annoyed – not just because even your _memory_ seemed incredibly difficult to compete with, but also because you left John in that horrid state. But then I met you, and you were so much _more_ than I heard from the stories – there are so much that words and imaginary can do for you, and you in the flesh were… Intriging, exiting and god, really handsome, too. After that I watched you both became _whole_ together – and I already loved John, including John’s love for you, which was such a central point in him forever, but then I got to know you, how you wonderfully cared for him in return, and from that point, it just escalated.” She let a tiny laugh escape her lips. „I realised all this about two weeks ago, when I watched you arguing with that florist. You put so detailed effort in this wedding as if it was John's and yours. I suddenly felt like an intruder. So that night I went to an internet café, brought two coffes and a coctail and google-d a great many things. I contacted Mycroft two days later and started planning this.”

 

„What about the baby?” Sherlock asked quietly. The Watsons smiled at each other.

 

„It will be actually easier to tend to an infant, if there are three of us,” John noted. „More sleep per person, and all that.”

 

„Anything else, minor details and domestics, we can figure that out later,” – Mary assured him. „We still have eight more month.”

 

„Seven and a half, more likely.” Sherlock corrected.

 

„Seven and a half then. Plenty of time. We are proposing, Sherlock, quite literally on our knees too. What do you say? Would you like to be our lifelong partner?”

 

Sherlock – thank god – didn’t look that lost anymore. Nor was he back his usual self yet, but John wasn’t that worried anymore. Just about his answer. He said such beautiful things just that day, at his best man speech, but did he think it seriously?

 

„What is in the third bag?” Sherlock enquired, looking back at the mantelpiece, now clearly just playing for more time.

 

„A music box,” Mary answered smirking, clearly noticing this too. „It’s for dancing together. You left the wedding so early, we never got the chance. Honestly, John was totally wrong about that there-are-limits-thing.”

„I never thought about it as an actual, possible thing that I can have.” John said apologeticly. „Clearly, I was wrong. Sorry about that.” He drew in another large chunk of air and then finally curled his fingers around Sherlock’s. Mary still held the darker-haired man’s other hand.

 

They looked at Sherlock, awaiting. The detective blushed deeply, darting his gaze everywhere in the room except at the man and the woman hopeful eyes. He swallowed, again and again, and just as John felt that he couldn’t stand this, not for a fucking moment longer, Sherlock whimpered out:

 

„Yes.”

 

„Yes!” Mary screamed triumphantly. Then she jumped up on her feet and pulled Sherlock in a tight hug in one swift motion.

 

John felt faint and disorientated, the blood drumming loudly in his ears. He saw him in Marys arms, his eyes closed, his lips pressed together, but face slowly relaxing – and John realised he could kiss him now and Mary wouldn’t mind, and probably Sherlock wouldn’t mind either, and everything was so fucking _perfect_.

 

„Let us give you the ring properly now, my love.” Mary said, getting the accessorie out of it’s case. „You already made a vow to us this evening, but it’s my turn now. Sherlock Holmes, I promise to be there for you in every way I can offer, to help you with figuring out emotions whenever you need. Come to think of it, this should apply to John as well.”

They laughed. _This could actually be easier than I thought_ – John told himself. „I promise to always call on your bullshit when you are fibbing, but I also promise to be on board whenever you want to fool John-”

 

„Hey!”

 

„Hush! And I promise to never try to change who you are. Because you are amazing, love.”

 

Sherlock looked at her – and god, John never thought about how gorgous they would be together, but _now_ he did, and the room suddenly felt much warmer.

Her voice brought him back to reality.  „John?”

 

„Right.” John stepped closer and this close he actually had to raise his head to look his best friend in the eye. „It’s hard to find thing which hadn’t been said, but… Sherlock Holmes, I promise you to always scold you for not finding a clean and experiment-less spot on the table, and for the not fitting contains of the fridge too,” nobody laughed this time (though Mary smiled). Sherlock’s eyes were big and the look in them utterly vulnerable, so John continued less lightly. „I promise to have everything just the way it was before… with more love.” He daringly splayed his right hand open in Sherlock’s chest. „And more touching. Definately more touching,” he repeated as he felt his heart elevating even more, matching Sherlock's. God, he wanted- „Maybe kissing too…”

 

„John, the ring.” Mary said pointedly. Together, they slid it on Sherlock’s ring finger. „I’m sorry, but I think we should postpone the kissing part,” she added, breaking the men’s hot gazes at each other. „Because I think if I let you two start it now, we won’t be able to leave the flat for a couple of days, and we have a flight to catch in six hours.”

 

John admitted to himself grudingly, logically, that she had a point.

 

„We can dance though. Sherlock and I, you and John, and then all of us together. Then we can go and pack for the honeymoon. What do you think?”

 

„It sounds good to me.” John answered, looking at them. Sherlock nodded too, probably mentally noting what experiments and violin-cases should he absolutely bring with himself.

 

„Why don’t you open your third present, Sherlock?” Mary suggested.

 

He did so. As soon as the led was removed, a classical piece started playing, John didn’t recognise what. Sherlock probably did though, judging by the way his eyes penetrated the object lovingly and that after puting it gently to the table, he gave Mary a quick kiss on her cheek.

„Thank you.”

 

„You figured it out then?” Mary asked teasingly.

 

„Yes.”

 

„Aaand?”

 

Sherlock smiled and presented a hand to each of them.

 

„Let’s dance.”

 

 

 

 

And they did.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! 
> 
> Could you figure out Mary’s sentence? Let me know your guesses in the comments :)  
> (I'm planning to write a sequel, so it will be mentioned in that.)
> 
> Have a nice day! :)


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